Old Homes

Over the last year (or so) I've felt increasingly to have lost my sense of nationality.  I was born Canadian, but my family only adopted it as a home a few years before I was born.  Before that, they were American for a while and I, too, am considered American by default - or, more technically, 'born abroad', but I've never lived there.  And, for the last 3+ years I've lived and made a home-of-sorts in a country with absolutely no familial or ancestral anchor.  Besides all that, I have basically no voting rights in any of those countries.  A citizen, but not really so.  It's a strange feeling, but the semi-vagabond life A and I have led for the last few years has really taught us to rely greatly on ourselves and we've been extremely fortunate to have found some incredible and kind friends who have helped us along the way to make a home simply where we happen to be.  

I usually think of North America (primarily Canada) as the place where a great many family and friends live, but I don't often feel a nostalgic pull.  In fact, as the days approach to a flight back, I tend feel a bit queasy.  I guess I've always felt this way about 'going home' - I used to feel sick every time the bus rode past familiar markers on its route from Toronto and into my hometown of London.  

When we went back last summer it had a been a while since we'd visited last and our 4 weeks on that continent weren't shaping up to be any kind of relaxing holiday.  I didn't even feel the need to pack my digital camera.  I just threw a mostly-working old Lomo camera I had from a flea market without really caring if any pictures came out.  I know this is all sounding pretty negative - and, admittedly I was feeling negative about that trip for many various reasons, not even developing the film for nearly 8 months afterward as another trip back approaches.  But I finally did and I'll admit that for the first in a long time, I felt a tiny bit nostalgic as I flipped through some of the pictures that came out...

From the top: a bit of summer beauty from both of our parent's homes; The late, great Felix; Montreal; New York (Brooklyn City Hall hold a tiny bit of significance for us and I was reminded of it as we passed by); Pickering from the GOTrain; Parkdale